


Pass the Smell Test

by blackchaps



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: AU, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Different Meeting, Harold is a genius, John is a badass, M/M, POV Alternating, Sex, no one dies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:01:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26130829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackchaps/pseuds/blackchaps
Summary: This started out as nothing but smut but then gave me a nudge to write a bit more. John meets Harold at IFT, and they form an instant connection. Shit begins to roll downhill from there, and John will stop at nothing to get Harold out of trouble.
Relationships: Harold Finch/John Reese
Comments: 26
Kudos: 109





	1. Chapter 1

***

“Absolutely not!”

“Harold, the contract with the government is ironclad on this point. I’m to provide a bodyguard for every person working on this project.” Nathan had the grace to look ashamed. “That means you.”

“Officially? I’m not working on it!” Harold was starting to genuinely dislike the government, which was saying something.

“Please. This time? Listen to me.” Nathan scrubbed his hand through his hair. “My car blew up yesterday.”

Harold had to sit down and did so with an audible thump. “Dear God.” He wasn’t sure what to say, but his mind was spinning. “You know whoever we hire will be a plant for some government agency: FBI, NSA, someone!”

“I know.” Nathan rolled a chair over and sat down across from him. “But you have this.” He put his finger on his nose. “Our secret weapon.”

Staring at him, Harold was tempted to throw a stapler at his fat head. “Are you on this again? I’m not going to find a bonded this way. Please, Nathan, shut up.”

“I just mean that your heightened sense of smell can help you choose someone who’s… not a terrible person.” Nathan spread his hands. “Alicia and Denton aren’t fools. They know I have a programmer, and she suspects it’s you.”

“I didn’t exit your office quickly enough.” Harold sighed in disgust. “Convince them I’m a useless omega. It should be easy.”

“I tried.” Nathan flushed, getting up to pace. “They think you’re mine, and that I’m forcing you to work on the project.”

“Never in my life have I dealt with such idiots.” Harold made up his mind right then that he was going to finish the project, but there was no way in Hell that he was giving it to them. There had to be another answer. “Like you’re strong enough to own me.” He snorted at the mere idea.

Nathan spun towards him. “Now, don’t get rude.”

Harold turned to his laptop. “Get out.” He had to think. “Don’t speak to me for at least eight hours.” He knew Nathan was opening his mouth, and he shoved all his anger right at him.

“Geez,” Nathan whispered, but the door shut behind him soon enough. Harold regretting having to do that, but he had rarely been this angry. Ridiculous.

***

“This is our chance. Don’t blow it, Kara.”

“I’ll get in. Don’t worry.” She pulled John’s head into her lap and stroked his hair. “Who will look after my pet while I’m gone?”

“Don’t worry about him.”

John growled around his muzzle, knowing that meant a cage. Kara pulled his hair sharply, but he didn’t care. She hurt him so often that none of the pain mattered any longer.

“I worry he’ll get loose and snap your neck, Snow.” Kara surged to her feet, and John stayed on his hands and knees, face averted. He knew better than to try to slink to a corner in the van. “Tell me why? We don’t run ops behind enemy lines.”

“This is our only chance to find out what the NSA is doing.” Snow nudged John with his boot, and John tugged futilely on his cuffs. He wanted to kill Kara, but Snow would do. “You know how omegas are, and you can get the intel.”

She smiled like a crocodile, and John felt sorry for the omega that she was going to ruin like she’d ruined so many. Snow chuckled, an ugly sound. “I’ll take care of John.”

“Don’t lose your temper and kill him. It’s what he wants.” Kara grabbed his muzzle and gave him a shake. “Behave.”

John took the shot to his groin in complete silence. Oh, someday, he’d kill her.

***

“Don’t ask if I followed your instructions,” Nathan snapped, but he immediately looked apologetic about it, which was typical.

“I’m certain you did.” Harold hated this, but he was going to use it to his advantage. He never should’ve agreed to deal with the devil and coming to that realization had taken too long. Perhaps being wanted for treason had clouded his judgment. He took several deep breaths and forced his body to project absolute meekness as he stepped into the long hallway.

Every six feet there was man or woman standing at attention, and he had to walk this gauntlet. Nathan couldn’t help but clap his hands together. “Okay! Please remain still. Do not move about, and for God’s sake, don’t say anything unless the omega asked you a question.”

There were sixteen nods and one smirk. Harold turned as if he might bolt, but it was an act. “Nathan, stay here. Your cologne is thick today.”

“Like hell,” Nathan muttered.

Harold stepped even with the first candidate, a man, short, and he reeked of sweat, as if he’d eaten too much garlic sausage for lunch. “No,” Harold said. The man frowned, and Nathan shooed him back down the hallway where security would see him out. Harold eyed the line and wanted to curse.

Taking out his handkerchief, he blew his nose and decided to stay an extra step away. One down, just sixteen to go, and at the end of this, he was draining one of Nathan’s accounts and giving it all to some charity that Nathan despised.

Four men and two women later, Harold looked back and gave Nathan a desperate look. “I can’t breathe,” he whispered. It was, unfortunately, true. His nose felt clogged with filth.

“Shit.” Nathan moved in, wrapping an arm around him. “Take a thirty-minute break!” He steered Harold into a nearby conference room. “Sit down.”

Harold blew his nose again and sipped from a bottle of water Nathan handed him. “They all smell terrible!”

“I guessed that from your expressions.” Nathan paced back and forth. “And that mild and meek act is ridiculous.”

“That blond woman was FBI. I could smell the Hoover building on her.” Harold took a sniff and abruptly sneezed into his handkerchief. It helped clear his nose of all the wretched smells.

“You did not.” Nathan sighed. “Okay, maybe you did. I noticed three of them had guns, which I specifically told them not to bring.”

“Let’s quit now.” Harold gave Nathan his best soulful eyes. “Nathan.”

“Stop it. It’s too late. You have to pick one. We can only hope the rest of them aren’t as stinky.” Nathan stopped pacing. “I’ll get you some tea and have my security guys frisk them. At least weed out the ones with actual guns.”

“Thank you.” Harold prayed that was all of them. He went to the restroom while Nathan was gone, and greedily took the tea from Nathan’s hand when he returned. Just sitting in front of it, breathing in the wonderful smell did wonders for his mood. He just had to find one person that didn’t reek. It didn’t matter if he or she was an alpha or a beta.

“Damn super nose,” Nathan grumped.

Harold ignored the complaints, wallowing in his tea. He’d get through this, and then the NSA was going to regret it.

***

“What’s the hold up?” Snow snapped.

Kara pulled the only chair in the van next to John and sat down. “Prissy little omega, that’s the problem!” She slapped John across the back of his head and used his muzzle to put him face down in her lap, pressed against her slacks. “I’m not going to let him slip away, don’t worry.”

“Do you know his criteria?”

“No, he’s just standing there, waving people away. Scent, maybe. Security tossed three others that were dumb enough to have a gun in an ankle holster.” Kara kept her hand in John’s hair. “It’d be easier if you’d just let me kill him.”

“We’ll never get the information if he’s dead. Do your job.” Snow leaned and gave her an exaggerated sniff. “You smell fine.”

“One guy smelled like farts. I thought the omega might pass out.” Kara laughed and gave John a shake. “About time for your bath, huh, John?”

John forced himself not to react. He stayed limp in her lap. It was just another day in his life, waiting patiently for them to make a mistake that would see them dead.

***

The tea was gone, and Harold had a new plan. He put Nathan in front of him, and when the stench was overwhelming, he retreated into Nathan’s scent zone. One of the reasons he’d chosen to be Nathan’s friend in college was the general lack of stench.

Three more people to go, and he wasn’t gagging yet. He stopped in front of a woman – the one who’d smirked – and her eyes twinkled at him. “Hello,” she purred. She was an alpha, and a strong one.

Eyes wide, Harold drew a step closer. So many scents assaulted him, and he began to list them in his head: gun, metal, coffee, man stink, vagina, alpha, cordite, bullets, and he tilted his head, letting the last two waft over him. Death and… oatmeal cookies? He furrowed his brow, confused, but he needed to know more about that last scent. “Hello?”

She eased forward, as if she was afraid he’d run. Her outfit was stylish, and she moved well. If she hadn’t reeked of suffering, he would’ve considered her for the job.

“Kara Stanton.” She was smart enough not to extend her hand.

That step let him tamp it down. She smelled like death, but someone else she’d touched was the source of the cookies. It was on her hands and clothes, and it was wonderful. Whoever it was, that was the person Harold needed, wanted.

“Send the rest away, Nathan.”

Nathan got busy with that and then hurried over. “You found one!”

“Yes.” Harold had to breathe through his mouth. “Miss Stanton, may I ask a favor of you?”

“Anything.” She was firmly up his nostrils now, drawing the smell deep.

“Whoever it was you last touched, I’d like to speak with them, before I hire you.” He had to meet him, maybe touch him, possibly keep him.

“Why?” But she didn’t snarl, just sounding confused.

“Character reference, that sort of thing. And don’t try to fool me. I’ll know.” Harold was a terrible liar, so he told a partial truth, giving her his best omega smile, nudging his scent at her. She seemed to blink in surprise and then nod.

“Of course! I’ll get him, but please, you’ll need to be careful.” She frowned. “He’s a very dangerous alpha, not suitable for any omega, much less one as refined as you.”

“Sounds delightful.” Harold wasn’t worried. No one who smelled like that would ever hurt him. He turned to Nathan. “Set up an office near my lab. She and her friend, male I believe, can meet us there.”

Her smile of triumph was so easy to see. Harold looked up at her through his lashes. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” she growled, marching away.

Nathan had to hustle to keep up with Harold as he moved upstairs. “Harold? You’re sure?”

“She’s a murderer. Once I figure this out, please have her thrown from the building and her picture posted as _persona non grata_.” Harold got the elevator moving. He shivered a little at how close he’d had to come to her. Those eyes were stone cold. Nathan had a million things to say, but Harold listened to none of it.

When the office was ready, Nathan agreed to have a squadron of his own security people just out of sight. Harold made himself another tea and took the chair behind the desk. He didn’t know what to expect, but his mouth dropped open at what he saw.

***

“Get up!” Her foot hit his ribs hard enough to bruise. John got up lazily, not rushing. She slapped his muzzle. “We’re going upstairs. If you ruin this for me, I will kill you.”

John grinned into his muzzle. Finally, his lucky day had come. He could smell the omega on her, and she was out of her league. While she made sure he was presentable, suit coat, clean shirt and shoes, he stayed passive, obeying every command. He did not want to be left behind for any reason.

She bragged about how this assignment was in the bag, and the CIA would be promoting her straight to the top. John made sure his shirt was tucked in perfectly. He wanted to impress this omega, right before he killed her.

Snow had his usual stupid comments, and John let her smooth his hair around the muzzle. She looped the leash around her wrist and started for the front entrance. John jumped down out of the van and took a deep breath. It was a beautiful day in New York City, and it would be her last. The cuffs were off, no zip ties around his ankles, and once they were out of sight, he’d snap her neck like a rubber band and save the omega. No little muzzle would stop him.

***

Oatmeal cookies stared at him with crazy eyes. His face was muzzled in a manner quite barbaric, leash looped around her wrist. Harold took a deep breath of him and nearly blushed at how wonderful the scent was as it lingered in his nostrils. “Oh, that’s nice.”

Miss Stanton sat in the chair, legs crossed, smile on her face. “Down, John.”

Oatmeal cookies - named John - locked his eyes on Harold’s face and knelt very slowly. Harold tried to think, but it was very difficult with the scent in his nostrils and looking right in those beautiful eyes. He licked his lips and forced his brain to work, to spit out meaningless words that would lull her.

“Why, yes, Miss Stanton, you are a powerful alpha.”

“Top tier.” Her smile promised death to anyone who crossed her. “And this is John. He’ll answer any questions you have. He’s my bonded, but he won’t interfere with this job.”

If he was bonded, that contradicted the need for the muzzle, so she was lying. Harold swallowed hard. “John, I’m Harold. It’s nice to meet you.” He was afraid he sounded like an idiot.

John grunted, which was about all he could do with that dreadful muzzle on his face. Kara casually pulled John’s head into her lap, stroking his hair, which was why she’d smelled like him.

Harold had to swallow again. He was a horrible man. What he was going to do was a horrible thing. He’d never stolen another human before, much less an alpha this strong, so strong. John’s shoulders were perfectly relaxed, but Harold wanted to strike her for daring to touch him.

“Miss Stanton, now that I understand the situation, could I have a word with John in private?” Harold used his best omega voice, but it was a long shot.

She frowned. “He’s extremely aggressive. I wouldn’t recommend it. Ask away.” She yanked the leash, giving John a jerk, and Harold had to stop himself from throwing something in the desk at her. John’s eyes went wide, and she snarled, “On your feet. Be polite to the omega!”

Surging up, John moved faster than any alpha Harold had ever seen, even on TV. He didn’t even breathe hard, and the snap was extremely loud in the small office. Harold jumped up and bolted to him, only thinking of keeping him safe.

“Wait! Wait!”

Her body slid off the chair, her evil eyes going blank, and John yanked himself around to face Harold. With trembling hands, Harold reached up to John’s face, needing to help him. 

John held perfectly still, no sound, but his eyes spoke volumes. His arms came up, but his hands trembled as he gently put them on Harold’s shoulders. The touch made Harold groan. It was so heavy, so right, and he had to re-focus. Ashamed he tugged John’s hair, Harold worked the straps off and gently pulled the muzzle out of John’s sore mouth.

“There, there.” Harold threw it without looking as to where it would land. He put his hand on John’s poor bruised face. “Are you okay, John?” Saying his name felt like a triumph.

“I’m a bit better than I was.” John’s voice sounded like gravel, like he hadn’t spoken in years, and he rubbed his mouth. “You should call the police.”

Harold tried to stop touching him and failed, smoothing John’s hair back off his face. “She clearly attacked me. I hired you to be my bodyguard. You did nothing but your job.”

John took a small step, and Harold nearly passed out when those strong arms came around him. 

“She called you a prissy, little omega.” John stared down into Harold’s eyes.

“I lean that direction. Yes.” Harold could breathe John’s air forever happily. “Bonded with her? Ridiculous!”

“Really dumb.” John lowered his head, tongue darting out to lick his lips, and Harold kissed him because he was right there. Harold jerked away, suddenly appalled at his behavior. John smiled, slow and easy. “Bad?”

“Oh, no.” Harold had to take a breath. He couldn’t feel his toes. “We just shouldn’t kiss with her dead right there on the floor. It’s not appropriate.”

Frowning, John sighed. “I suppose you’re right. So, I got the job? You know I’m CIA?”

“Retired?” Harold asked hopefully.

“Absolutely. I’ll work for you now. They have a surveillance van around the side of the building.” John fidgeted, just a little, but he didn’t turn Harold loose. “I could go kill them?”

“Tempting, but I’d rather you just disappear.” Harold would make it happen, and he’d prefer John not kill anyone else, unless absolutely necessary. “I’m going to need your help. I seem to have made a dreadful mistake.”

“Hiring me?” John frowned, pulling back a little.

Harold yanked him close. “You? Never! I have placed my trust in our government.”

“Oh.” John rolled his eyes. “That was dumb.”

“Tell me about it. We’ll have to fix it.” Harold had some ideas, and he’d make a list as soon as he was able.

A brisk knock and Nathan barreled through the door, nearly bumping into them. “Harold? You were going to give me the signal!”

John shoved Harold behind him, openly growling. Harold squeaked before finding his voice. “Nathan! Meet my new bodyguard! John!”

Nathan’s eyes were as wide as Harold had ever seen when he peeked around John’s wide shoulders.

“Oh, shit,” Nathan said, looking down at her dead body.

“She attacked me. John saved me. I hired him on the spot.” Harold rubbed his face into John’s suit coat, dreadful thread count. “You smell so good,” he whispered.

Nathan and John did the whole alpha posturing, and Harold just sighed until it was over. John stuck out his hand, once he’d established that he was dominant. “I work for Harold now.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m his business partner, Nathan Ingram.” Nathan shook John’s hand. “We need help.”

“I heard.” John let Harold come around to his side. “I’m not a pushover like him,” he said to Harold with a small smirk.

“Oh, I know.” Harold wanted to bite him, just a little. “You should sweep me off my feet.”

Nathan laughed. “If there wasn’t a dead woman on the floor, this would be a great day. Harold finally met his match.”

“I may swoon.” Harold let his knees go weak, and John swept him up into his arms. “Nathan, show him to my hideout so we can rest until the police arrive. I suppose it will be dreadful.”

“This’ll be easy.” Nathan clouted John on the shoulder. “Don’t drop him.”

***

John would admit that Nathan was good at his job. He lied easily and often, and the police ended up thanking John for a job well done. He could agree with that, and Harold played the part of a prissy omega perfectly.

It was tempting to sneak away to the van and kill Snow, but Harold kept him close, even shivering in John’s lap when the police detective interrogated him. She was tough. John liked her, but Harold carefully told a story that didn’t have a whiff of a lie about it. And honestly, Kara was a CIA assassin; they’d found a garrot and a knife on her, so there was that.

Nathan made everyone go away within the hour, and only then did Harold move more than a step from John. “Thank you, Nathan,” he said as Nathan was letting himself out of Harold’s lair. “I may not drain that off-shore account after all,” he muttered.

It was easy to smile at Harold. He was perfect. John would protect him with his life. “I really should check on that van.”

“Come this way.” Harold took him by the hand and led him to a computer array. Hands dancing, surveillance cameras popped to life, and after a quick sweep of the exterior, John sighed. Harold gave him a tiny pat on the shoulder. “They’re gone. Hopefully, forever.”

“Maybe.” John sat down next to him, not quite believing how this day had gone. “Usually retired agents are strangled and dumped.”

“Not this time.” Harold sounded firm on that point. He turned and found a way to tuck himself inside John’s space. “If you don’t want me, I’ll make sure you have an identity and enough money to do whatever you want, go wherever you want.”

“Perish the thought.” John’s smile came easy. Kara had called him stupid a lot, but he wasn’t dumb. Harold was it for him, and he settled him close. “Unless you need to disappear, and then I’m going with you.”

“That could be fun.” Harold tried to kiss him, only failing because John ducked to nibble on Harold’s neck. “Oh, for propriety’s sake, do you have a last name?”

John decided not to answer. He’d had so many that it didn’t really matter. “I’m sure you’ll think of something to put on the paperwork. Now,” he got to his feet, keeping Harold with him, “is there a flat surface somewhere nearby?”

Harold wrapped his legs around John’s waist. “West corner of the building. I have a bit of something.”

Heading that direction immediately, John didn’t complain when Harold found some skin to suck. His entire body felt tingly, as if he’d emerged from a hot shower and immersed himself in a pool of cold water. It was good, so good, and where he hadn’t wanted to live another day, now he wanted to live forever.

“I feel ridiculously happy. I never thought I could have this,” Harold whispered into John’s neck.

John found a little nook, full of comfort, thick comforter and pillows. The bed was a king, which was decadence itself after sleeping on the floor for years. With care, he put Harold down on the bed and loomed over him, drinking in the sight. “I intended to be dead today, so you are a surprise.”

“Horrible woman.” Harold’s eyes widened as John stripped out of his clothes military fast. “Oh, my.”

Refusing to pose, John tugged Harold’s shoes off. “Harold, can we do this?” He had to tell him the dirty truth, even if it ended up with him on the street. “I can’t bond. The CIA removes our bonding glands.”

Harold started on the buttons of his shirt. “That’s not possible.” He grabbed John’s hands, putting him to work. “Seriously, it’s been tried. The test subjects died, so whatever they did, I can fix it.”

John’s hands began to shake, he went to his knees by the bed, putting his head in Harold’s lap. He couldn’t believe this truth, if it was, but they’d lied and lied, and he supposed what was one more. Harold’s gentle hands stroked him, making him shiver.

“Come on the bed, John.” Harold’s voice got John moving again, needing him so much it felt like fire burning in his veins. John was on him in an instant. Harold groaned. “We can’t bond today, but I need you.”

“Glad to hear it.” John ducked his head and kissed him. Then he drew back, worried. “Wait. You really do need a bodyguard. I should be working?”

Harold chuckled, running his hands over John’s shoulders. “I think you got me covered.”

***

Harold thought that John should pose, once he was naked, but the alpha didn’t even pause before crawling up him to press all that wonderful flesh against him. Harold still had his pants on, and he felt like his skin was on fire.

A kiss, a few words, and Harold became increasingly concerned about the sheer mechanics of what he’d purposed. John was… very much an alpha, and Harold, well, “John?”

John made a gasping noise and then drew back to look at him. Harold decided to speak up. “I, well, um, have experience with many things, but…”

“Not this?” John’s gruff, whispery voice did things to Harold’s insides. Harold nodded, embarrassed beyond belief. John kissed him. “We’ll figure it out. Just smack my nose if I go too fast.”

That wasn’t likely, but Harold might tug on John’s long hair since it’d be cut off very soon. Another long kiss, and John somehow managed to yank Harold’s trousers off, right along with his socks. It must have been something he learned in the CIA. Being completely nude outside of the bathroom was a shock.

“Machine, close blinds!” Harold yelped, just now realizing they were putting on quite a show for anyone in a nearby building with a good pair of binoculars. The blinds came down, casting them into relative darkness.

John didn’t seem to notice, just kissing his way down Harold’s body, one excruciating inch at a time. The press of his mouth seemed to be igniting something that made Harold want to yowl. He wasn’t even sure what to do with his own hands.

Strong arms seemed like a safe bet to grab, and Harold could see multiple bruises on John’s torso, and touching them wasn’t possible. Hurting him was something Harold didn’t even want to think about doing.

“Did the police see these bruises?” Harold asked indignantly. He couldn’t touch where he wanted on his alpha because of her.

Pulling away, just a little, John kissed him on the jaw. “Yes. They took pictures to prove she attacked me.”

Harold kissed him to sympathize. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s better now,” John whispered, mouth trailing down Harold’s chest. “I’m going to suck your glands.”

“Good lord.” Harold braced himself, and the sensation of John’s mouth on his glands nearly brought him to orgasm. Without truly thinking about it, he reached to touch under John’s armpits where his glands were. John hissed out, clearly shocked. Harold gulped. “I’m sorry?”

“Do it again,” John purred.

Taking a firmer grip, Harold gasped when John’s back arched and he shuddered his way through an orgasm. Harold held him, whispering promises that he’d keep. John found Harold’s mouth again, and the kisses made Harold push his private parts up into John’s sweet flesh, again and again.

John’s tongue felt like silky heaven, and Harold’s orgasm roared out of him, leaving him weak, tired, and unable to form a complete sentence. “That…” he tried. John’s smile made him give up.

“Again,” John growled, kissing his way down Harold’s body, sucking at his glands and other bits that left Harold riding a wave of pleasure. Harold wanted to get his mouth on John’s glands. If just a touch made him orgasm, he was in fine, working order. The CIA probably had him on gland suppressants, which could make them close up. Despicable organization.

Losing his train of thought, Harold screeched like a cat when John flipped him over to bite at his back. Pushing his ass up into John was instinctual. Oh, my, Harold had never dreamed he could feel this good.

***

When Harold yelped, John took his mouth off him in shock. Harold pushed his ass back into him, and John instinctively snugged him close, reassured. No penetration, they weren’t ready for that, but the touch was still so good.

This was turning out to be quite a day, and John licked at Harold’s ear, enjoying the gasp. Harold dropped his head, further baring his neck, and John accepted the invitation, latching on to the soft skin.

The noises Harold made drove John crazy. Of course, he’d had sex before, even with a few omegas, but none of them were even in the same ballpark as Harold. This, John gently shook the skin in his teeth, breathing hard through his nose, this was incredible.

Harold cried out, and John bucked against him, helpless to stop. His cock slipped back and forth, sliding in Harold’s sweet juices, and he reached around to touch him, make him even wetter. They moved as one, gasping, hands grabbing, and John wondered if this was some crazy dream, and he’d wake up in his cage.

“John!” Harold jerked against him, crying out his name. John caught his breath between his teeth and came so hard that he couldn’t think, only feel, and it felt so damn good. He sank down onto him and shifted them to the side, using his hand to spread their cum into their skin. He was careful to smear some on Harold’s glands, making him gasp.

Finally, his body settled, and he rested his head, trying to find some words and coming up short. Harold shifted inside John’s arms and kissed him. “Thank you.”

Surprised, John blinked at him. “My pleasure,” he finally growled, and he meant that. His eyes fluttered shut, and he held him close, feeling sleep creep over him. “More? Later.”

“Of course, my John.”

Praying he didn’t wake up in a cage, John fell asleep.

***

Stroking his hand through John’s long hair, Harold watched him sleep. There was so much to do, and his mind whirled with it all. Carefully, so he didn’t wake John, he pulled his spare laptop from underneath the extra pillow. Using John to prop himself up, started a preliminary investigation.

His first results, after hacking the CIA database, made him so furious that that he had to stop reading. John would smell the anger and wake up. John Reese, John Warren, John Thessing: it was one pseudonym after another. No wonder John hadn’t cared what name Harold put on the paperwork.

Covering his tracks, Harold sent a download of all pertinent facts on a journey that would end on his secret server. That done, he started a list of tasks to accomplish in a timely fashion, and that lightened his mood. What mattered was that John had found his way to safety, and she was dead, evil woman.

“Cage?” John asked, sounding groggy.

“You are safe. I promise,” Harold said, pushing his scent at him.

“How many suits?” John muttered, scooting around and tucking himself on Harold’s shoulder. “That… seems like a lot.”

“Oh, hush.” Harold kissed him on the forehead. “Do you own anything?”

“That muzzle was custom made,” John said, shutting his eyes again.

“Barbaric.” Harold might destroy the CIA. It was on the list, after all. “Let me know when you’re ready for some lunch. I’ll have some delivered.”

John’s stomach growled at both of them. “Food? But Harold, I ate yesterday.”

“I pray you’re joking.” Harold decided on steaks and sent the order in, making sure to get extra of everything. “Heavens, what if you have food allergies?” He had a moment of panic, but John didn’t even open his eyes, just throwing his arm over him to hold him closer.

Harold practically purred, and that was when he realized Nathan was going to be insufferable from this day forward. He’d been right, damn it.

***


	2. Something Rotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens - a tiny plot, but still...

***

No idea where he was, John bolted off the sinfully comfortable bed and scrambled to the nearest corner. He laced his hands behind his head like Kara always wanted, kneeling, hunched over almost to the floor, making sure not to breathe loudly. Somehow, he’d fallen asleep in her bed without his gag. She was going to beat the shit out of him. 

Nothing smelled right. Nothing felt right. This wasn’t a hotel. 

Eyes shut, he waited, hoping she was quick. He was hungry, and today was a food day. 

“John?” 

Confused, he shuddered out a long breath, shocked when someone sat down next to him. It was a risk to look, but the smell. Oh, the smell. He made the side-eye quick, and the sight made him gasp. “Harold?” 

Sitting next to him, knees drawn up, arms around them, Harold nodded. “It’s me.” He didn’t reach for him, but he did scoot a smidge closer, so he was pressed against him. “You’re safe. I know you don’t feel that way, but I promise that you are, and I will never lie to you.” 

John sat down on his bare rump, not understanding what was happening. His heart pounded, and his breath came short, and he felt like his mind was skittering in all directions. “I’m not safe. First chance they get, I’m dead.” 

“I believe we can find a solution to that. Nathan has contacts in the CIA and while you don’t know, he is reliable when it comes to social interactions.” Harold’s voice soothed something deep in John’s gut. He was able to take a breath that didn’t ache. Harold squeezed his legs. “I’m sorry you were upset.” 

“My fault,” John whispered, getting his hands to unlock and grabbing his thighs. He wanted to touch him, hold him, but he couldn’t hurt him, and he felt shaky, unbalanced. “Don’t touch me,” he warned, sure it was the wrong thing to say. 

“I respect that.” Harold nodded, tucking himself a bit tighter. “Breakfast is being sent up.” 

Startled at that, John blurted, “Do you live here? At your job?” 

“Not always.” Harold looked a bit embarrassed. “It’s just... easier to have services available when I work late.” 

“So, you live here.” John forced himself to wrap his hand around Harold’s socked ankle, just to touch, make sure he was real. Harold was fully dressed, suit and tie, dress shoes and all high-quality. John had never felt more naked. “I don’t even own clothes,” he muttered, not wanting sympathy, or even an answer. 

“You _were_ paid for your time at the CIA, salary and health benefits.” Harold didn’t sound like he pitied him. “It’s barely possible I made sure your assets were untouchable while your new status is being completed.” 

It was easier than he’d thought to chuckle. “You’ve had a busy morning. I bet Snow is pissed.” 

“He filed no complaints with me.” Harold slid his hand down and clasped John’s wrist. John sucked in a deep breath, felt his stomach tremble, and held perfectly still. Harold’s hand was incredibly gentle, and he barely squeezed. “You are tremendous, strong and brave.” 

Breathing deeply of his scent, John groaned as all his anxiety drained out of him. It left him light-headed. He scooped Harold into his arms and clasped him in his lap, drawing a deep breath of him. “You are amazing.” 

“We should form a club.” Harold rubbed his forehead against John’s shoulder. “It’ll get you into a jacket.” 

John’s stomach growled at them. Harold kissed John’s chin, and John said, “Maybe food first.” 

“I believe you have time for a shower.” Harold didn’t try to wiggle away though. “There is a small selection of clothes in the facilities. Nathan and you are of a similar size.” 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Clothes seemed like the last thing to be worried about today. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll do better.” He made it a promise. 

“I like this morning very much.” Harold kissed him again. “May I show you the facilities?” 

“Only if you learn to call it a latrine.” John, gently, eased him away and then got to his feet. He was surprised how wobbly he was, probably adrenaline. Harold steadied him, and John ducked to steal a kiss in thanks. Harold slipped his hand in John’s and pulled, not hard. John followed. 

*** 

Harold shamelessly watched him shower, just for quality control purposes, of course. A dominant’s glands were in the muscle below their armpits, and an omega’s were on his hips. There was no sign of John’s glands when he washed, and Harold vowed to understand what the CIA had done to him by the end of the day. Bonding was a privilege that John deserved. 

John was thorough, but he didn’t linger, and the clothes were adequate, but only just, khakis a touch too short, polo shirt that didn’t bring out John’s eyes, and trainers, not even dress shoes. Harold had hoped a trip to the tailor would be on the schedule, but after today’s beginning, perhaps it would be better to take it a bit slower. 

Food arrived, and Harold made sure the waiters were gone before leading John to the dining area. It wasn’t fancy, but it was serviceable, and he was sure John didn’t care, given his attention to the food. He ate slowly and carefully, glancing at Harold several times as if he was unsure. 

Focusing on his own plate and tea, of course Harold smiled at him more than was reasonable. He also wondered if he would ever lose the desire to sit in John’s lap. 

“You should eat more,” John said, nudging Harold’s plate with a long, elegant finger. 

“I hate to be sluggish all morning.” Harold forked up a bit of sausage and fed it to him. “You need to gain a few pounds. I’m sure the doctor would classify you as underweight.” 

“I work harder when I’m hungry.” John said it like he’d heard it a hundred times. “When do I check out weapons for the day?” 

A little stunned, Harold stalled for time by sipping his tea. “I’ve never actually had a security employee of my own. We’ll investigate together. I do know you’re far more qualified than any of the rest of them.” He was sure of that. “And I’d prefer you’re never hungry. You may chew on my arm.” He tried for a wink, so John would know it was a joke. 

“But I like the way you taste,” John said, low and husky, licking his lower lip. 

“Oh, my.” Harold was sure he blushed. “After work, may I take you home?” He saw John’s reaction and drew a quick conclusion. “You have the resources to buy a home of your own, if you’d prefer that.” 

John blinked at him and then swallowed. “I’d like to be with you, if you’ll have me.” 

“John, there is nothing I want more,” Harold said, striving to sound sincere. “But we do need to work on a financial portfolio for you in the near future.” 

“Sexy talk.” John scrapped his plate clean. “Thank you for the meal. I can make it now.” 

“Make it?” Harold didn’t understand that even a little. 

“Until the day after tomorrow.” John wiped his mouth and refilled his coffee cup. “And this is pure indulgence.” 

“Good heavens.” 

*** 

The food had been so good, not the usual leftovers, that John was actually a little sleepy. When he stifled a yawn, he nearly died of embarrassment. Hoping that Harold had missed it, he got to his feet. “Do you want me to stand by the door? I feel like I’d do a better job armed.” He needed to work, not be pampered. 

Harold glanced at the far door and back. “I’d like to give you a tour, and make sure HR is up to speed on your particulars.” 

“Sounds good.” John quickly sorted the mess on the table, just to be polite. “Will people touch you?” He needed to know. Hurting someone on the first day might be a bad idea, but he would, if they touched him. 

“Absolutely not!” Harold sounded indignant. “And no one should look at you with any intentions!” 

“Settle down.” John eased closer and smoothed his hand across Harold’s shoulders. “I look ridiculous in these pants, so I’m safe from intentions.” 

“Your ass looks very fine.” Harold blinked. “We should leave before I give in to my base desires.” 

Eyebrows up, John wanted to hear all about those desires. The far door banged once, and then opened with a flourish. It was Nathan, and John put Harold behind him, just giving in to the need. “Maybe a little more time after the knock.” 

Nathan opened his mouth, shut it, and then nodded. He shoved his hands in his pockets to show his submission. “My apologies. Those pants look dreadful. Harold has three meetings today. I assume you’ll want to be present at all of them, so let’s get you better clothes, and John, no one will touch him. You have my word on it.” 

“I don’t know you.” But John was inclined to believe him. Letting Harold nudge his way out from behind him, John stayed very close. “But Harold trusts you.” 

“I really do.” Harold tucked his hand inside of John’s. “Why don’t you go with Nathan? He can give you a tour, find you better clothes, and I’ll review my notes for the meetings. I’ll remain here until you return.” 

John almost couldn’t bear the idea, but this was a job, and he had to work. “Promise?” 

“I promise.” Harold stepped so close, and John had to kiss him. “Bring me a tea when you come back?” 

“From the second floor. Got it,” Nathan said. 

Growling, John whipped back to him. “No.” 

“Nathan, I believe your days of pampering me are over. I’m very certain you’re relieved.” Harold squeezed John’s hand. “I wouldn’t accept it from him. Sencha tea, one sugar, please.” 

“I’m free! I’m free!” Nathan crowed, turning away and going to wait by the door. “Come along when you’re ready.” 

“You are not allowed to bite him. Believe me when I say you will be tempted.” Harold sounded like he meant it. “He likes to annoy people. I apologize in advance.” 

“I’ll be good.” John hoped he meant that. He kissed him, long and slow, guided him to his computer desk, put him in the chair, and went for the door. “I’m ready.” 

“Thanks,” Nathan drawled in a sarcastic way. 

John decided to ignore it. He shut the door, glad that he heard it lock. “There’s a code for this door?” 

“Yes.” Nathan nodded. “Have Harold change the code. I don’t have access to that function.” 

“I’ll do that.” John wanted Nathan to knock properly. “Clothes first. I don’t want to embarrass Harold.” 

“I’m glad you see it that way.” Nathan led the way because John allowed it. 

John focused tightly, mapping the building for tactical safety and finding it lacking. Nathan didn’t introduce him to anyone, and John wouldn’t ask. Nathan’s office was quite a distance from Harold’s work nest, and Nathan proclaimed he had an entire wardrobe there. 

“Help yourself to whatever fits. Tomorrow, we’ll get a tailor in and get the beginnings of a wardrobe. Do you think you and Harold will mostly live here or at his place?” Nathan poured himself a whiskey, not offering any to John, who admittedly didn’t want it. 

“Probably good to have clothes in both locations.” John followed Nathan’s vague wave to a door and found a walk-in closet big enough to house someone. It was certainly bigger than the cage Kara left John inside when she didn’t trust him not to find trouble. Shaking off the memory, John shut the door, scanned for surveillance, found none, and started looking for clothes that fit. 

Undershirt, black slacks, and a white dress shirt with proper shoes, and he felt more like he belonged near Harold. When he emerged, he noticed Nathan’s bare nod. “I need a gun.” 

Nathan’s eyes widened. “Our security usually carries pepper spray, not much else.” 

“The CIA wants Harold. I can’t stop them with pepper spray.” John wasn’t backing down on this point. 

“My security chief is on his way up.” Nathan sprawled in a blatant display on a nearby sofa. “You can argue with him. You’re Harold’s bodyman, not the head of ITF security. Remember that.” 

John didn’t want to hear it. He’d do whatever was needed to keep Harold safe. “I need a phone.” 

“Harold has them.” Nathan clearly wasn’t getting up off that sofa anytime soon. He took another drink of whiskey. 

Whatever John was going to growl at him was interrupted by a quick knock, and a man entering the office. “You sent for me, sir?” 

“I wanted you to meet our new bodyguard for one of the geeks upstairs.” Nathan sounded very dismissive. “He’s a hotshot.” 

Furious, John faced him square. “John Reese.” He went with his latest surname. 

“Whoa, take a deep breath, Wonder Boy.” The man was short, a little stout, and he didn’t look as if he was dominate enough to take on a child. “Lionel Fusco, head of security, and if you’re protecting the geeks then you’re doing us all a favor. Let me give you a tour.” 

Something in his tone brought John’s anger down a notch. “You’re a beta.” 

“What’s it to you?” Fusco opened the door for him. “I didn’t see you in the lineup for Glasses. That’s the geek I know was in the market for security.” 

“He pulled me in later.” John wasn’t going into details. 

Fusco stopped and looked him over again. “You killed that CIA woman, snapped her neck like a twig.” 

John wouldn’t confirm or deny. “Show me your alarm system so I can laugh at it.” 

“Hey, we got top-of-the-line!” Fusco led the way with a natural swagger, probably born of competence. John didn’t hate him, and he didn’t say goodbye to Nathan, who was staring at his phone. Fusco pushed the button on the elevator. “Mr. Ingram has standards, you know.” 

“Really.” John wasn’t impressed with him, not yet. 

*** 

Watching John through various surveillance cameras instead of reviewing his notes was a poor use of Harold’s time, and he shamelessly did it anyway, chin on fist. John was... everything Harold had dreamed of having but known he could never obtain. Oh, those khakis were awful, except from behind. 

There was nothing in the world Harold wanted more than to take him back to bed, and he suddenly understood at a visceral level why bonding days were a requisite of any respectable work contract. When John reappeared from Nathan’s work closet, Harold choked on his own spit. Oh, dear. Oh, my. That. Man. 

*** 

Being thorough was difficult when John had an overwhelming compulsion to go check on Harold. Just to be sure he was fine. When the basics were covered, John wouldn’t be receiving a handgun today, so he made up his mind to procure one through other methods, he ditched Fusco and headed to the second floor to find Harold his tea. 

The barista knew the order, and John hesitated over getting something for himself. The barista nodded, “You security guys always get smalls.” He fixed John a coffee and handed it over, waving away payment. “It goes on Harold’s tab.” 

“Thanks.” John would get his own tab for the next visit. Hands full, paranoia lurking around every corner, John made his way back to Harold’s floor. The door opened when he arrived, and he tried not to show his relief to Harold’s face. “Hi.” 

“Thank you.” Harold practically snatched his tea. “I was nervous while you were gone. There are many, many details you don’t know.” 

“Like why Ingram dismisses you as nothing but a geek?” John didn’t like it. “Or why the security system is Pentagon-level complexity. Honestly, I was surprised Fusco could handle it.” 

“He’s much more intelligent than he seems. If he were a dominant, he’d be on the police force, probably detective level.” Harold had been edging ever closer, until he stood almost on the tips of John’s shoes. “I missed you.” 

“Same.” John thought it was ridiculous. “We can’t bond,” he blurted, not understanding how Harold could want him. 

“Not this instant, no, but John, my dear, the plans I have for you.” Harold reached up and skimmed the tips of his fingers across John’s lips, like a match setting a fire. John groaned, unable to control his dick from swelling. Harold smirked, and then he frowned. “Wait. I can’t do this.” He dropped his head, shoulders slumping. 

“Well, you shouldn’t associate yourself with an assassin like me, that’s certain.” John didn’t think he could bear to walk away from this, but he would if Harold didn’t want him. “I’m not good enough for you.” 

“No, John.” Harold’s head came up and his eyes blazed behind his glasses. “The issue is me, and my lies, and all the problems that go with lies. You should... go find someone better, someone normal.” And he sighed, but he clearly meant that. 

“Stop.” John sipped his coffee to clear the cotton from his mouth. “Maybe we’re both terrible people, so we’re perfect for each other. I’m used to lies, danger, death, and people who are horrible. This can only be better.” 

Harold put his forehead against John’s chest. “You smell so good. It’s hard to think when you’re,” he took a gasping breath, “on the same planet as I am.” 

John chuckled and led him by the hand to a small sofa. They sat together, tea and coffee in hand. Harold sighed, settling close and resting his free hand on John’s thigh. “Start at the beginning, Harold. Tell me everything I need to know to protect you.” 

*** 

It felt like Harold’s mind dropped out of system. He sipped his tea, cuddled close to John, and tried to find words to encompass his life. So many lies made the truth difficult to see at times. 

“Reminder. Meeting in five minutes. Harold. Reminder.” 

John shot up out of the sofa. “What the hell?” 

“It’s my computer assistant.” Harold told a carefully curated truth. “Will you accompany me?” He hurried to his desk and began gathering what he needed. 

“You’re not going without me,” John growled. “I need a gun.” 

Harold straightened his vest and slid into his jacket, appalled at how untidy he was, but resigned to the fact that John made him want to take off his clothes. “I don’t approve of guns, but I also have no desire to be killed by the government, so you and I will tackle that topic after this meeting, agreed?” 

“I’ll just rip off a table leg and beat anyone to death who gives you a problem.” John flashed a killer grin at him. 

“I’m afraid Marco is in deep trouble.” Harold abandoned his tea, made sure he had his phone, handed the phone he’d prepared for John to him, and they went out together. 

*** 

Protection detail was part of the job, and John was proud of his ability to keep people alive, but in his gut this was different. This was Harold. 

If something happened, John would kill them all, and then himself. He had no idea where they were going, but he still led the way, keeping himself between Harold and anyone they saw. Once, Harold gave him a look, and John ignored it. When they arrived at the conference room, John made the quick decision to clear the room and then guard the door. 

Harold didn’t seem to notice, fussing with his laptop and pulling out a folder. When everyone was seated, John gave them all a hard look. He was disappointed none of them had a gun he could confiscate. 

“I’d like you all to meet my security man, John Reese,” Harold said. “He takes his job very seriously.” 

There were nervous smiles. John gave them all a stiff nod and went to stand outside the door. No one had been armed, and he thought threats would come from outside, not inside. He settled in, watching but relaxed, and he reviewed what he knew of the building. 

Another security guard passed by, giving him a nod, which he returned. Fusco’s team, the ones that John had met, were mostly veterans, a few betas mixed with low-level dominants. John wasn’t threatened by any of them, and he was sure they’d respect him. 

He didn’t watch the clock but he blinked in surprise when his phone vibrated. He tugged it out and was through the door before putting it away. He swept the room before going to Harold. “Okay?” he asked, not minding that several dominants gave him a sour look. If they barked at him, they’d discover his bite. 

“I’m fine.” Harold packed up his computer. “And I’m relieved to say that this particular group will not be meeting again. Their lack of understanding the ethical issues that would face any AI constructed impedes their progress.” His scorn whipped at them, and there was no lingering. They were bolting out the door. “I recommended a class from the local university.” 

“Ouch.” John liked this attitude. He wanted a strong mate, and Harold fit the bill. The idea that he couldn’t bond had been beaten into his head, but if Harold said it was possible, then it was. John hadn’t known him long, but he just knew that Harold was the smartest guy in any room. “Oh, thanks for the phone.” 

“You’re entirely welcome. If you need help with it, please ask me.” Harold made for the door with John half-step behind. “If you don’t mind, I need some time in my office.” 

“You’re the boss.” But John liked that Harold asked. “We can discuss my arsenal requirements.” 

“Minimal, I hope.” 

John found himself smiling, and he’d thought they were headed back upstairs, but Harold took them down a floor and to a corner office with a stupendous view. John noticed that Harold ignored it, muttering under his breath about ethics and idiots. When Harold was settled in front of two computer screens and two keyboards, John pulled a chair up alongside and kissed Harold’s cheek. 

“Gun. Now.” 

“My, you are insistent.” Harold opened a chat window. Fusco instantly looked confused. John ducked into camera range, and then sat down again, just to see Fusco swallow hard. Harold nodded. “There you are, Chief Fusco.” 

“I’m sure Reese wants a twelve-pack of guns here by the morning, Glasses, but there’s paperwork.” Fusco sounded irritated. “I got the Sig Sauer special for the month. And plenty of ammo. It’ll be here by the end of the week. Do we have a shooting range in this mausoleum?” And Fusco clicked off, probably on accident. 

“There you have it.” Harold sighed before shutting his end. “You’ll have ordinance that I won’t approve of by Friday, unless sanity breaks out.” 

John decided he’d improvise a weapon or two, a sharpened table leg if necessary. The look he gave Harold must’ve spoken volumes because he shrugged. “I know we have to be careful.” He handed John an actual paper file. “Read this.” 

*** 

It was difficult to concentrate with John sitting so close. The smell was intoxicating, and Harold had worked enough today to know that he wanted to take John home now. A quick knock, and Nathan looked at John for permission before strolling inside and sprawling in the chair Harold had for that purpose. 

John touched Harold’s wrist with two fingers before going back to reading. It was a gentle display of claiming, and Harold felt his pulse increase. He was falling for this Dom, more than just his scent was intoxicating. 

“You are allowed bonding days, Harold,” Nathan drawled. “I think most of it would appreciate a break from all the posturing.” 

A very low growl was heard by both of them. Harold patted John’s knee to settle him. “I needed to get to a place where I could be gone, and I’m almost there. We’ll need a car, and I think John wants to be involved in the security detail that would get us to my main residence.” 

“The apartment on Central Park? The one near the pandas?” Nathan was flipping his phone with his hand, a nervous habit. John made Nathan nervous, and for some reason, Harold thought it wasn’t a terrible thing. 

Harold sighed. “I was thinking maybe my estate in the Hamptons. Quiet, beach access, and it’s off the books.” He could admit to some increasing paranoia the closer they came to fulfilling the government contract. “Did you speak with your contacts at the CIA?” 

“I did.” Nathan got to his feet and shot his cuffs. “He’s all yours, but move quickly on the paperwork before they change their mind.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “They think he’s their mole inside. I expect they’ll attempt contact soon.” 

John looked up, eyes narrowing. Harold gave him a moment, then said, “John will do as he wishes in that regard. Thank you for your efforts on his behalf.” 

“Do you own a gun, Nathan?” John’s voice was silky smooth. “I’d feel safer having one, now that I work for Harold.” 

Nathan raised his eyebrows. “Fusco and paperwork don’t get along.” Then he nodded. “Harold, take him by my apartment on sixth. I’ll text you the code for the gun safe.” 

Harold wasn’t sure he wanted to be part of this. “Isn’t that illegal?” 

“Only if he shoots someone.” Nathan slunk out the door like a tom cat. “Call me when you get there.” 

“I’ll be in touch.” Harold would try to make it a priority. It John spent any time with his shirt off, it would be hard to think. He edged his chair closer. “I need another hour, maybe two. If you wish to stay with me, I must complete the proper paperwork.” 

“I wish.” John wrapped his long arm around him. “Do you still want me? Knowing I might be a plant?” 

“That’s ridiculous.” Harold didn’t believe that. “I never smelled deceit or deception on you for a moment! If you decide to inform your old employer of my movements, just tell me and I’ll make sure you have accurate bullet points.” 

John put his forehead on Harold’s shoulder. “They’d put a bullet in me afterwards.” He sighed. “Your nose is that good?” 

Harold shifted enough to kiss John’s temple. “It’s always been a problem, but be assured Nathan will never lie to me. He knows better.” 

“That’s reassuring. His smugness makes me want to punch him.” 

“I did warn you, but get in line.” Harold chuckled. “Why don’t you go organize our trip security with Chief Fusco? Take him a coffee. I’ll hurry.” 

“You’ll stay in this room?” John met Harold’s eyes, face so serious. “I can call you?” 

“I will, and please do, if you need anything!” Harold stole a kiss, reveling in it. John eased to his feet, file in his hand, and he made for the door, but he hesitated after opening it. It was as if he couldn’t bear to leave, and Harold could only stare fondly after him. Oh, John was a keeper. 

*** 

Shutting the door took some willpower. John assumed a guard position while he got his body under control. His gut was screaming not to leave Harold’s side, but John had to set up transportation. There was no way he was trusting Fusco’s men to properly vet a car. 

The file in John’s hand made his nostrils flare. The bomb set in Nathan’s limousine could’ve gotten them both. The pictures of the bomb fragments made him think FBI. He was fairly certain that the CIA hadn’t taken a shot at them, not yet. It didn’t make any sense to kill them before delivery of the system. 

Unless it was finished, and the government suspected Nathan and Harold were going to renege on the deal. The chances of a government mole in this operation were a hundred percent. Underestimating Harold was a mistake, so the system was done. The AI was finished and reminding Harold of his meetings in its spare time. 

Harold had said that trusting the government was a mistake. He was right about that. The thought of the CIA with an all-knowing AI at their disposal made John shudder. They’d arbitrarily kill people, and they wouldn’t ask questions about whether it was warranted. Hell, they already did that, so it’d only get worse. And the NSA had a reputation for doing whatever the hell they wanted. 

Glancing down at his phone, John made up his mind. He went towards Fusco’s office, needing answers. 

“Whoa, sit down, Wonder Boy, and we’ll talk.” Fusco put his hands up the instant John strode through the door. “You could’ve brought coffee.” 

“Not ever.” John was no one’s errand boy, except Harold’s. He decided to pace, not able to sit. “I read the report on the bomb.” 

“That’s what got your knickers in a twist.” Fusco nodded. “That limo was sent out to be detailed. It wasn’t one of my guys.” 

“No, but you should be checking every vehicle that goes out of your garage, and checking them again when they return!” John let some of his anger out. “They’ll exploit any mistake!” 

Fusco’s eyes were large, and his hands were flat on his desk. He lowered his head, hiding his eyes. “Who is they?” he asked in a mild voice. 

“FBI, CIA, NSA, and probably an agency we don’t know the letters for,” John snapped, not impressed with Fusco’s show of submissiveness. “And stop that. You're not intimidated.” 

“Maybe a little.” Fusco flashed a smirk at him. “You and Glasses are taking bonding time, right? After that, you’ll settle down.” 

John wanted to rip his head off. He saw a flash of real fear in Fusco’s eyes, and it did nothing to calm him. This wasn’t going to work. Slamming open the door hard enough to lodge the handle in the drywall, John went back upstairs, and people got out of his way. 

It was Nathan that caught him in the hallway before he reached Harold’s office. “John!” 

Fast, John had Nathan up against the wall, elbow lodged under his chin. “You told them it’s done.” 

Nathan’s eyes widened, and he scrabbled to find something to hold, shoes kicking as John pushed him an inch higher. “You told them!” 

No words wheezed out, but John saw the truth in Nathan’s face. “They have no reason to keep you alive if you box it up and ship it to them!” 

“John!” Harold’s voice made John drop him, gagging on the floor. Harold grabbed him by the forearm, but the grip was loose, and that kept John back. “What did you do, Nathan?” 

Expecting a chastisement, shocked that Harold had taken his side, John reined in his temper. “Tell him.” 

“John, please help Nathan up.” Harold punched in a code at the nearest door. John jerked Nathan to his feet and got him in one of the chairs at a conference table. The wheezing continued, and Harold pulled a chair up directly across from him. “Nathan!” 

“I’m okay,” he whispered. “Harold, at my last meeting with Alicia Corwin. She insisted you needed a bodyguard, and I promised delivery.” 

“By when?” Harold’s tone was furious, face pale. 

“Tomorrow.” Nathan reached for Harold, and John pushed the arm away, growling. He grabbed the arms of his chair and leaned. “Harold, they’ll kill us both!” 

“They’ll try.” John hated this for Harold. “But that was going to happen either way. Harold, is it done?” 

“I haven’t sealed it, and I still say it could use a bit of tweaking.” Harold shook his head. “Nathan, we weren’t going to give it to them!” 

“If we don’t, they kill us.” 

“If we do, they kill us,” Harold said. He reached, and John took him by the hand. “John, I told you we trusted the wrong people, our own government.” 

John had to think. He wanted to punch Nathan in the mouth. “Okay, where are the servers?” 

Nathan looked at Harold, and Harold shut his eyes. John sighed. “It’s here? Like in the basement?” 

Harold pointed up. “Top floor is nothing but servers.” 

“Well, we won’t be moving them.” John wished he’d been here sooner. “You didn’t consider building them off-site?” 

“In hindsight, I should’ve.” Harold squeezed John’s hand. Silence fell between the three of them. John had no idea what their options were here, but he could almost see the wheels turning in Harold’s head. Nathan just looked tired, yanking on his tie and rubbing his face. Harold met John’s eyes. “Nathan, gather your things, leave for the day, and don’t look back. Take the private jet.” 

“It’ll have a bomb.” 

“Fly commercial. Wear a hat.” Harold didn’t argue with him. “Use your second identity. The one in the locked right drawer of your desk. Ditch your phone. Change cars twice. Don’t call. I’ll find you when it’s safe.” 

After a glance at John, Nathan got to his feet. “Any advice?” 

“Don’t do anything you’d normally do. Ditch your shoes. Cash only.” John hoped Nathan made it for Harold’s sake. “Act casual. Then run like hell.” 

“Be careful, Nathan.” 

Nathan nodded. “Liv has Will overseas. They’ll be okay?” 

Harold looked at John. John shrugged. “They should hide. Don’t call them. Harold can handle it from here. Do you have a family codeword?” 

“No.” Nathan bit his lip. He opened his mouth like he might say more, and then abruptly, he was gone from the room. Harold put his face in his hands. John knelt down and wrapped him tight, not knowing what to say. 

“We can’t leave,” Harold said what John knew. “Let’s go upstairs. I need to speak to the Machine.” 

John helped him up. “Tell Fusco to send everyone home. Lock the building down.” 

“Agreed.” Harold went to his toes and kissed John on the chin. “You can run.” 

“No. I’m with you, no matter what.” John had known he was going to need a gun. “Let me get you safe, and then I’ll sweep the building. Change all codes, shut everyone out of their computers. All exits need to be checked and reinforced if need be.” 

Harold was rushing now. He raised his phone to his mouth. “Machine, go to code orange.” 

John grinned, unable to help himself. “You planned for this.” 

“I’m paranoid to a degree some would call unhealthy.” 

***


End file.
